


Home is Where the Heart Is

by Persiflage



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Future Fic, Make Daisy Happy, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Skye | Daisy Johnson, Safehouses, Surprises, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 13:08:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6567631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson is always thinking of Daisy's best interests.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home is Where the Heart Is

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts).



> Written for the Make Daisy Happy Mini Fic Fest on Tumblr.

"Are you gonna let me open my eyes yet?" Daisy asks as Phil guides her along the sidewalk from where they left Lola.

"Nearly there," he tells her; he's got his left hand over her eyes, even though she's got them closed, and his right hand's in the middle of her back, guiding her forward. She's not going to fall over, she knows, since she can use her powers to navigate even with her eyes closed, or in the dark, but it's still not the easiest thing for her to do this, even though she trusts Phil with her life.

"Okay," he says, and she feels his hand drop from her face, so she opens her eyes to find herself looking at a small house.

She turns her head towards him, a bit baffled. "It's a house," she says, and yeah, it's stating the bleeding obvious, as Hunter would've said, but she's not sure she knows what's going on right now.

"It's your house," he tells her, his expression a mixture of eager, earnest, and a bit bashful.

" _My_ house?" she repeats, wondering if she's misheard.

He nods. "Your own safehouse," he says. "No one else has to know it's here unless you want to tell them." She continues to stare disbelievingly at him, and he rushes on, his words almost tripping over themselves. "I know that sometimes it can get a bit overwhelming for you back at the base, with so many people around all the time, so I figured that you'd probably be glad of a space to call your own – away from the rest of us." He pulls a key from his jeans pocket and holds it out.

"Phil." She sort of gasps his name because she's suddenly, totally overwhelmed by such an amazing gesture. The only home that she's ever had was her van – and much as she'd loved her van, it wasn't the most ideal situation. "I – " She has to stop and swallow down the huge lump of emotion that seems to be lodged in her throat. "Thank you," she says, then throws her arms around him and hugs him really tight.

"Daisy," he says softly, his arms coming up to hold her close. "Don't cry." He sounds a little heart-broken, she realises, and pulls back to look him in the eyes.

"Happy tears," she tells him, and he gets that soft look in his eyes, the one she's seen over and over again during the last three years, and she doesn't think, she just leans back in and presses her mouth to his, carefully, softly, but very deliberately.

He makes a little noise, sort of choked but joyful, and his right hand slides up into her hair at the back of her head as he kisses her back, not quite so softly or carefully, but with obvious enthusiasm and intent.

She feels his arousal surging through his body even as her own rises up and she deepens the kiss, then bites on his lower lip, and he groans, his left hand dropping down her back to press her body more firmly against his, and even through the denim of his jeans, and her own, she can feel he's growing hard.

"Fuck, Phil," she gasps after tearing her mouth from his.

His cheeks are flushed, his lips red and swollen, especially the bottom one, and his eyes are dark with desire, and she reminds herself that they're standing on the street, in the middle of the day, and this is not even remotely discreet behaviour.

She pulls away, then grabs his left hand and leads him up to the front door, unlocking it to let them both inside.

"There isn't any furniture in here," he tells her apologetically. "I thought you'd prefer to pick and choose what you want, and, you know, choose the décor, too."

"Furniture can wait," she tells him, and slides his coat off. He smirks at her, all cocky and self-assured, which is a look she actually likes on him, but she still makes a little growling noise as she tugs off the sweater he's wearing under the coat, then drags off his t-shirt too. She freezes for a moment as she catches sight of the scar that dominates the left side of his chest, but it's only a brief hesitation before she's leaning in and kissing him while she unfastens his jeans. He groans as she slips her hand into his pants and slides her fingertips down his already-hard cock.

As they kiss he gets her jeans unfastened too, then eases his hand inside and slides his middle finger down over the lips of her sex before dipping the tip between her folds.

"Fuck, Daisy," he mutters against her mouth. "You're already so wet."

"Yeah," she gasps, then pulls away from him just long enough to tug his jeans and boxers down, exposing his erection. His cock's bigger than she'd expected, and she feels another surge of desire, and an aching throb between her legs.

He eases her leather jacket off her shoulders as she begins to stroke his cock in earnest, then pauses so he pull tug her tank up and off, leaving her bare from the waist up.

"Daisy." His tone is reverent, she thinks, when he sees her breasts, and then his hands are carefully cupping them, his thumbs rubbing over her nipples, and she shivers.

"Are you cold?" he asks anxiously, and she can't help laughing softly.

"Aroused, Phil," she tells him, and his face lights up, the cocky smirk coming back again. She steps back from him and pulls her boots off, then drags her jeans down, watching as he also ditches his footwear and jeans.

"God, I want you _so_ much," she tells him urgently. She doesn't tell him that she thinks he looks beautiful – but he does. He may not be young, and he's certainly not unmarked, but the scars, and the signs of age on his body don't detract from how utterly sexy he looks right now.

"C'mere," he says, and tugs her closer. 

She grabs his shoulders and his eyes go wide even as she boosts herself up to wrap her legs around his waist. She's pleased when he backs her against the wall, and is happy that his arms are strong enough to support her. 

"Do we need – " he begins, but she shakes her head. 

"Covered," she tells him, and guides him inside her slick heat.

He groans loudly as she pushes down on his cock, and she moans more quietly as it fills her up – he feels so huge, and she doesn't think it's just because it's been months since she had actual sex. (She refuses to think about the reasons why she hasn't, refuses to give any thought to Lincoln right now, not while Phil's got his cock inside her.)

"Are you okay?" Phil asks breathlessly.

"More than okay," she assures him, and squeezes her muscles around him.

"Daisy!" he gasps, then tightens his arms around her body as he begins to thrust, and she moves with him, doing as much of the work as he is. 

They don't last long, either of them, and she's sure that it's her climax that tips him over the edge so fast. He immediately starts to apologise, so she leans her head down and kisses him, deep and dirty, to silence him.

She unwraps her legs and he lowers her so she can get her feet back on the floor. "Phil, you don't need to apologise to me for anything." She slings her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his. "I've wanted you for so long, but I never dreamed that we'd do this. And I certainly never dreamed you'd buy me my own safehouse." She kisses him briefly, nipping at his lower lip. "You just made two of my dreams come true, so you don't need to apologise for a single thing."

She drops her arms to circle his waist, then squeezes him again. "Let's get dressed, then we can start deciding how we're going to furnish and decorate this place."

"We?" he says. "This is _your_ place Daisy, so you should decorate and furnish how you want."

"Phil," she says, rolling her eyes a little. "I want you to help me. I know the kinds of things I like, or more accurately, don't like, but I don't really know how to do this – I've never done this before – I lived in a van for two years, don't forget."

"I could kiss you," he declares, rather dramatically, she thinks.

"I'm not stopping you," she tells him with her own version of the cocky smirk, and that makes him laugh, then press her against the wall again while he kisses her.

"Clothes," she reminds him, and he chuckles, then backs up, and they get dressed again, then she grabs his left hand and tugs on his arm a little. "Give me a tour?" 

"Yeah," he says, and she can tell he's excited by the prospect.

And she's got to admit that she's pretty excited herself at the idea of decorating and furnishing a place of her own with his help, because while it's officially going to be her place, she knows that unofficially it'll be _their_ place.


End file.
